


Fading to Dust: #3

by devilswreckedchewtoy (AmberFyre)



Series: giveaway fics and drabbles and RP prompts [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, tumblr rp prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:44:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15983006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberFyre/pseuds/devilswreckedchewtoy
Summary: Written for the prompt: Send me ‘Fading to Dust’ for my muse's reaction to watching yours die right in front of them.





	Fading to Dust: #3

**Author's Note:**

> Written for arthropxd on tumblr circa 2014. Unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own. As per usual, I own nothing but the story. Originally posted on tumblr.

An arrangement of convenience that had become so, so much more.  Sam and Raeganbeld made a team that was unstoppable.  They terrorized more beings together than either had ever done separately.  Sam Winchester, marked as the Boy King, who had been to Hell and Heaven and back again, who had survived far more than any single human should have had to endure and still be sane at the end of it.  Raeganbeld, a witch turned demon, who had served Lucifer loyally, who was one of the first, one of the most powerful demons and Knights of Hell in existence.

Once Sam had embraced the darkness within him, fed by her blood, there was little on the face of the Earth that could keep them from claiming everything either of them had ever wanted.  It had been so easy to take over Hell, to become the ruling royalty, striking more fear into Hell’s denizens than even Lucifer had thought to inspire.  And no matter how much they may have fought between themselves, there was no one who could come between them.  Anytime anyone tried they closed ranks, united in the destruction of the threat, perceived or actual, it made no difference.

If asked to explain his relationship to Rae, Sam would have simply given a dark, secret smile and refused to explain.  In truth, sometimes he wondered how it was they worked so seamlessly together.  But he never doubted it.  They could do anything together.  No one could touch them.  And that, as always, was the fatal mistake.

Because no one was above the possibility of death.  No one was invincible, immortal, except maybe God, and really, who had heard from Him lately?  Even the most careful of people could trip up on their own perceived power.  Sam had never actually considered that Rae could be killed.  It just had not crossed his mind once he’d realized he couldn’t do it himself.  And it should have.  He’d seen too many people come into his life to be torn from it in blood and pain.  He should never have forgotten that.

Watching her die, in front of him no less, had caused a moment of incomprehension, a split second where he’d simply stared, unable to make sense of the information his eyes were feeding to his brain.  The next second a rage such as he’d never felt had swelled within him, and the denizens of Hell had only that split second to understand exactly what they had unleashed when they’d chosen to kill their King’s Consort.  Only that long before Sam, in a blind rage set about tearing Hell to pieces and destroying anyone and anything his power could reach.

The devastation was something that had never been seen before in the existence of the Realm.  And the few demons that managed to escape that first swath of utter annihilation that Sam caused learned a fear they’d never thought to ever feel.  Because that first swath of destruction was sheer, unadulterated rage without thought or deliberation.  The second…

And he had to let the rage burn.  Rae was gone.  Maddening, irritating, beautiful. powerful, coy, egotistical, flirty and arrogant.  A demon witch who hadn’t hesitated to corrupt him, who hadn’t regretted a single thing she’d done to drag him onto this path.  A woman who hadn’t feared him, who had challenged him every fucking step, who refused to baby him, pity him.  Someone he fought with, tooth and nail, screamed and yelled, punched, kicked, bit, scratched, fucked.  And yet someone who had remarkable moments of tenderness she’d let no one else see but him.  Fanciful, intelligent, she’d been a match to him in every way he’d ever thought counted.

They thought that killing her in his presence would break him?  They thought that daring to do such a thing would be the way to gain control over him?  They had been so wrong.

He would burn the world.  He would destroy them all.  And if his cold, calm calculation in the depths of an icy rage that consumed every inch of his being was close to a madness of its own, he didn’t care.

And if he cried as he stalked first through Hell, then across the face of the Earth as he brought his own personal Apocalypse down on the world, no one who witnessed the sight lived to tell the tale.


End file.
